The Band
by Marches45
Summary: Gumball and Darwin are in the school band program. Follow them and the rest of the students in the program as they prepare their music for their spring concert. This story is based on my continuing personal experience of being in a school band (I play trumpet). Also, say hello to my OC, Mike Pearson. Read and review, but don't be rude. Chapter 7 will have a shift of focus.
1. Chapter 1

**The Band**

Disclaimer (applicable to this and subsequent chapters): The only one which I own is Mike Pearson.

**Me: I'm back! I've been away working on deviations for deviantART, and I had writers' block, so I haven't been making anything new for this site. Well, I'm back now, and I have a new OC for you all. Introducing…Mike Pearson!**

**Mike: [waves as applause is heard]**

**Me: Now that we all know each other let's begin this new story, in which Mike shall appear.**

* * *

Chapter 1

The final bell rang, signaling for everyone to board the bus unless he or she had an after-school activity to attend. This was the case for Gumball Watterson and his brother/pet fish. These boys were part of the Elmore Junior High School band program. Gumball played the clarinet and was 3rd chair; Darwin played the alto saxophone and was 2nd chair.

As Gumball and Darwin walked at a comfortable pace to the band room, their friend Mike walked up to them. Michael Pearson was a bovine that played the French horn in the band as 1st chair.

"Hey, Mike," Gumball greeted in a friendly manner.

"What's up, bro?" Darwin asked, following his brother's example.

"Not much," Mike answered. "Man, I can't wait to start sight-reading today. I wonder what song Mr. Small is going to give to us."

"We'll certainly find out in a couple minutes," Gumball said as they entered the band room. The staff member that stood at the podium was bony, wrinkly, and ugly: definitely not Mr. Small.

"Miss Simian?" Gumball said in astonishment.

"Yes, Watterson," the old woman screeched. "I didn't want to be Mr. Small's substitute, but if it means getting to boss you around more, who am I to complain?" Hahahahahahahaha!" she cackled. "Now, sit down!"

Groaning, Gumball plopped down in one of the free seats and crossed his arms while slouching. Darwin and Mike took seats nearby and waited for everyone else that was still in the hallway to enter.

* * *

**Me: Here's the first chapter. So far, the piece which will be featured throughout this fanfiction is _Celtic Ballad_, by Wesley Kennedy. Anyway, tell me what you think of this story by reviewing; then, look up the aforementioned song to find an audio recording of it, and let me know what you think about the song through PMs or reviews.**

**PS: [Spoiler Alert, skip if you don't want to know just yet] I paired Gumball with Carrie ****in this story**. [Spoiler over]


	2. Chapter 2

**Me: I received a character request from an anonymous reviewer. As a result, this fanfic will include Alex, a goat that plays the trombone as 2nd chair. Alex may be a minor character (definitely for this chapter), but he may not be. Alright, talk with Mike. [turns to face him] How do you like playing the French horn?**

**Mike: It's hard, but it's so badass.**

**Me: You must be really proud to train on the hardest brass instrument in the band to play.**

**Mike: Hell, yeah. It takes dedication, perseverance, and thin- to medium-sized lips to be able to play French horn.**

**Me: It sure does. Alright, I'll see you later.**

**Mike: Bye.**

**Me: Okay, I've taken up enough of your time, let's get back to the story.**

* * *

Chapter 2

"Alright, since Mr. Small wasn't able to be here today, on account that he got sick, I'm in charge," Miss Simian told the band members. "Now, up here, you'll find a stack of paper. I want each one of you to— Alex, stop talking!" she shouted.

"Yes, ma'am," said Alex (no last name).

Sighing, Miss Simian continued, "Now, as I was saying, I want each of you to take a piece of paper and write the following."

Miss Simian grabbed an Expo marker and wrote upon the dry-erase board, _Miss Simian is the most badass baboon in the world, and I am nothing but a worthless loser who doesn't deserve to be in her presence._

* * *

**Gumball: How the hell can she make us do that?**

**Darwin: Can't she get fired?**

**Mike: Yeah, if I was her boss, I'd give her the pink slip in front of everybody.**

**Me: She could get fired, but this is how she maintains her job security: Principal Brown is her boyfriend, and he loves her too much to give ten shits about handling that kind of a situation.**

**Gumball, Darwin, Mike: Oh, yeah.**

**Me: Now, back to the story.**

* * *

"I want you all to write this down 50 times in 25 minutes starting now," she requested.

This caused all of the students to expel loud groans in complaint.

"Silence!" Miss Simian commanded within seconds. "Since i have been put in charge, I can do what I please, and since I hate all of you, especially Mr. Watterson, I decided to do this to punish all of you for being in my life. Anyway, you have 25 minutes. Anyone that doesn't complete this assignment gets Saturday detention. Oh, and since I spent some time talking to you, you now have 24 minutes."

No sooner had she announced the time reduction than the band members grabbed a piece of paper and began to write 50 times the sentence on the whiteboard. Once everyone was seated, Miss Simian went into the band room office.

"Damn, Miss Simian sucks," Gumball muttered angrily.

"Ya got that right, dude," Mike agreed. "But boy, am I glad that I can write quickly."

"Someone should teach that bitch a lesson, huh?" asked Carrie, the one bass clarinet player in the band. She was sitting to Gumball's right.

"You said it, Carrie," Gumball told her without looking away from his paper lest her hotness in his eyes put him in a love-struck trance. "She needs to be taken down a few pegs."

* * *

After the 25 minutes were up, Miss Simian left the office to collect the papers.

_Shit. I only copied it 47 times_, Gumball thought as she grabbed his paper and examine it. When she said nothing and handed back the paper, Gumball thought he was off the hook. Suddenly, she said, "Saturday detention, Watterson," and then cackled like a witch.

_Fuck_, he thought. _Say, what happened with Darwin?_

"Hey, Darwin, how did you do?" Gumball quietly asked his aquatic friend, who was almost facing Mike.

"I actually got it done. Thank goodness," Darwin answered.

"Well, then, it looks like Carrie and I (**Gumball would probably say "me and Carrie," but I prefer grammatical accuracy**) are the only ones that didn't get finished." Turning, he said, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"You, too," Carrie answered.

"If I told you that you will have detention tomorrow, see me now for your detention slip; everyone else, scram!" Miss Simian called from the office.

Everyone gathered his or her belongings and either left the band room or went for his or her slip. Darwin and Mike waited behind at the door of the band room for Gumball and Carrie.

"It's too bad Gumball got detention," Darwin said sadly.

"You know what's too bad? That we had that old witch for a substitute instead of being able to start sight-reading," complained Mike.

"Yeah," Darwin agreed. "Hey, do you think that Gumball and Carrie should be together?"

"Is the French horn the hardest brass instrument to play? Of course. They're perfect for each other. I see the way he looks at her."

The conversation stopped then and there because just then, the band room door opened, and out walked Gumball and Carrie. The foursome then made their way to the front of the school. After saying their goodbyes, Gumball and Darwin got into their mother's car, Carrie teleported home, and Mike started to walk.

* * *

**Me: For The Zombie Within, how is this for a longer chapter? Is it good? bad? Let me know. Alright, the next chapter will cover what happens during the Saturday detention for Gumball and Carrie. [hears hissing, looks away] Holy shit! The romance-o-meter is detect high levels of romance for the next chapter! Anyway, in the mean time, read and review, people; I appreciate the feedback that you give me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Me: I finally edited my grade 3 composition to be ready to submit it to my band director for my class to sight-read. All I need to do now is slightly edit the recording. New topic: If any of you is wondering why I made Darwin play the saxophone and my OC Mike play the French horn, it's because the clarinet (Gumball), alto sax, and horn sometimes have the same lines in concert band literature, like during the Trio in my composition. Alright, let's get back to the fanfic, which reminds me: I don't own Damien Goldbrooke; Jonathan-Elrod on deviantART does. Another thing, this is the longest chapter I have ever written to date, and the first to exceed one thousand words (including the author commentary).**

* * *

Chapter 3

Gumball arrived at Elmore Junior High at 9:00 for his detention sentence. As he walked through the corridor, he couldn't help but appreciate the quiet that was present. He finally made it to his classroom to find Carrie floating above a desk boredly.

"So glad you could make it, Watterson. Now sit down, and do absolutely nothing. I'll be in the teacher's lounge," Miss Simian demanded of Gumball as she stood up from her desk and made her way to the door and then exited, leaving the two preteen students in the room. Gumball took his seat next to Carrie and sighed, resting his head in his right hand.

"Oops. I forgot to slam the door. Silly me," Miss Simian said as she turned back around to return to the classroom. Once she opened the door, she immediately noticed Carrie's absence and the smug smile on Gumball's face that he sucked ass at masking.

"Where's Carrie (tell me what it rhymes with)?" she asked angrily. Only a second later, Carrie appeared out of nowhere in front of the teacher, taking the form of something you might see in Satan's nightmares, if he has any (if not, then Carrie looked like she did when she trolled the viewers in her Elmore-StreamIt YouTube video). This scared the shit out of Miss Simian, and she ran off screaming until she crashed into a row of lockers, which knocked her out. Back in the classroom at the doorway, Gumball and Carrie were laughing their asses off, having witnessed this take place.

"I can't believe she actually took a shit on the floor! Haha! Oh, my gosh, I wish we had a camera!" Gumball uttered through his laughing fit.

"Haha, yeah! We could have posted it online and _really_ showed that bitch who's boss!" agreed Carrie.

Gumball stopped laughing a little bit before Carrie, giving him time to stare at her without her knowledge and think, _Man, she's so hot right now_.

"Hey, Carrie?"

She answered while still trying to control her laughter, "Yeah, Gumball?"

"There's something I have to tell you." (**Tension is rising**)

"What is it?"

"Well, there's this…person that I know."

"Yeah?"

"And I think that I…well…like her."

"If you're talking about Penny, she's already spoken for."

"Oh, I know. She's with Damien. Anyway, I'm not talking about Penny. It's someone else. Do you think I might have a shot with her?"

"Well, I think it depends on the person whom you like," she answered, descending to his level. "Who is it?"

"I don't really want to say."

"Oh."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Well, I think you should talk to this girl. If she isn't your friend right now, be nice to her and start out as friends; if she already is your friend, you should tell her how you feel somehow."

"Okay. Thanks, Carrie. You're a true friend."

"You're welcome," she said with a slightly sad smile while thinking, _Move on, Carrie. He obviously isn't the one for you. Just move on_.

Gumball suddenly gripped Carrie's hand and lifted it, startling her. "Gumball, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Do you want to know why I didn't want to say who the girl I like is?"

"Why?"

"This."

Releasing her extremity, he cupped her face in his hands and connected his lips with hers. (**I know, totally predictable**) At first, Carrie was shocked, but then, she relaxed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Gumball's neck. After a couple seconds, they separated, with small smiles on their faces.

"It's because I'm talking to her right now," Gumball told her.

"You know, you make we wish I were alive, sometimes," she responded, grinning.

"I always wish you were al—!" he said as she surprise kissed him back.

After two minutes of making out, Gumball called out into the hallway, "Rocky, Miss Simian shit herself, and it's on the floor." Soon after, Rocky came into the corridor and saw it for himself.

"Ew! What happened?"

I literally scared the shit out of her," Carrie said proudly.

"Oh. Well, as much as I like pranks, I don't really find cleaning _this_ up very appealing. Oh, well," Rocky said as he grabbed a flushable disinfectant wipe from his cleaning supplies and began to clean up the mess.

* * *

**Me: Originally, I was going to have Carrie possess Miss Simian, and include the following two deleted scenes:**

**1. When Nicole comes to pick Gumball up from detention, Miss Simian tries to make him stay longer because she just hates him. The women have an argument that climaxes when Miss Simian calls Nicole a loser, resulting in a hard core ass-kicking in favor of Nicole, and Gumball leaving at his scheduled time with his mother. Later, he tells his family about his new relationship with Carrie.**

**2. Principal Brown walks through the school corridor (I've used that word several times in this chapter haven't I?) and finds Miss Simian passed out by the lockers. He resorts to kissing her awake, and before he manages to get up, she wraps her arms around him, and they make out.**

**Anyway, how was this chapter? The romance scene probably was corny, wasn't it? Read and review, please.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Me: Well, Gumball and Carrie are an official item for this story. Now, let's get back to it.**

* * *

Chapter 4

Gumball, Darwin, Mike, and Carrie were on the school bus, headed to school. All four were in the same seat because Carrie was in Gumball's lap, making out with him and ignoring the stares that everyone was giving them.

"So, I see that they've hit it off," Mike said just to break the silence.

"Yep," said Darwin with his mouth making its characteristic C shape.

Once the bus stopped at the school, everyone got off, and the four friends made their way to Miss Simian's class. On the way there, they passed the band room door and looked inside to see Mr. Small in his office. Upon seeing him, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ahh, thank goodness," said Gumball. "I was afraid we's have to risk getting detention again."

"Yeah," said Mike as they continued down the hallway.

Once they took their seats, Gumball and Carrie started to make out again, gaining Miss Simian's attention.

"Hey, no public displays of affection!" she screeched, causing Carrie to break the kiss and take the form she took during the Saturday detention. This frightened Miss Simian, but instead of shitting herself, she screamed, jumped behind her desk, and cowered in fear. Carrie laughed, along with the rest of the class.

The ret of the day went by uneventfully. When the dismissal bell rang, everyone headed to the bus or his or her after-school activity (**This sentence almost, if not completely, use the exact same wording as the first sentence in the story**). The four friends made their way to the band room, where Mr. Small had written the plan for the afternoon.

"Alright, everyone. I apologize for my absence last Friday. My wife (**use your imagination to come up with a name; I can't really be bothered**) caught a cold, so I had to stay home and take care of her," Mr. Small announced. "Now that I'm here, though, let's begin with the warm-up," he continued, grabbing his baton. "1, 2, ready, play."

The wind players played the following concert pitches as the percussion section, all playing on snare drum, alternated between using quarter notes, eighth notes, sixteenth notes, and long rolls every measure: F, E, F, E-flat, F, D, F, D-flat, F, C, F, B, F, B-flat, F, B-flat (**minus the final B-flat, this used my warm up #3 in middle school**). Next, they played scales as the percussion executed a long roll. Continuing on, they did their dynamic control warm-up, without the percussion section this time. Here was where a band member revealed a problem.

"Tobias (6th trumpet out of 9), make sure that you're balancing your trumpet's sound with the others, as well as with the rest of the band. The dynamic marking "f" doesn't mean that only you play loudly. It's a relative term."

Yes, Mr. Small," the rainbow boy answered with slight embarrassment that his poker face managed to hide.

"Okay, now, once again."

This time, all of the students executed the dynamic control warm-up error-free, so they moved on to their chorale, We Gather Together (**I made a band fantasia on this piece which I called "Thanksgiving Overture"**). With that done, Mr. Small began passing out the parts to the sight-reading piece.

"Who can tell me what to look for in the correct order when you get a new piece?" Mr. Small asked from the podium once everyone had received his or her part. "Yes, Mike?"

"Look at every **_k_**ey signature, then at **_t_**ime signatures, then **_a_**rticulations and tricky **_r_**hythms." (**My band director told me and my band class this information**)

"Correct. For this piece, though, all you need to worry about are the latter two since this work has a constant key and meter. Before we begin playing, we'll listen to a CD recording. Follow along in your music," he advised. With that, he put the disk into the CD player, and everyone _with patient ears_ (from The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet) listened to Celtic Ballad, by Wesley Kennedy.

* * *

**Me: I apologize for the frequent interruptions in the chapter. Ignoring that, how was this? Read, review, don't flame, and I recommend that you look up Celtic Ballad.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Me: At last, after about a decade, the four girls (Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus, Michelle Knight, and an unidentified young child) whom Ariel Castro abducted have been found and rescued! Excellent job, Mr. Charles Ramsey! You're a true hero, and modest, too. Those that are criticizing you for your physical characteristics are acting shallow. You did a good deed; ****_that_**** is all that should matter. As for you fanfiction readers, I'm not accusing you of being critical of Mr. Ramsey's appearance and background, but if you are, I would appreciate it if you stopped. [sighs] Now that that has been said, let's get back to the story.**

* * *

Chapter 5

"Alright, students. Here we go," said Mr. Small, grabbing his baton. Everyone wiped his/her eyes (the sound of Celtic Ballad made them shed tears) and brought his/her instrument up.

"Remember, if you have the melody, add half to a whole dynamic above what you have writte in your part; however, you always need to play with a good tone. That should never be compromised. Now, let's play." Waving the baton in the 4/4 time pattern, he whispered the count-off, "1, …, 2, …, 1, 2, 3," and cued the French horn and alto sax soli. The only one to play on time was Mike, who noticed that the first note was a pickup note. Quickly, Mr. Small stopped the song to address the error.

"Pickup note, guys. On what count does it start, someone other than Mike?" he asked. "Yes, Darwin?"

"Count 4," Darwin said as if the mistake didn't occur.

"Correct. Let's try it again with that in mind," Mr. Small said before doing the count-off.

This time, the music was performed flawlessly in terms of notes and tempo. The band still needed to work on phrasing and shaping.

"Now, if you play during the first eight measures, look in measure 6. You have a crescendo, so bring it out. It helps add shape to the song. Also, this applies to everyone: at measures 6, 14, 30, and 46, bring out the crescendo if you play. Alright, let's play this again," Mr. Small instructed. The band did as told, but not to the level that he intended.

"I like the effort, guys, but the line still isn't being given enough dynamic increase. Again."

This time, the horns and alto saxes did fine, along with the clarinets and low woodwind, but the trombone section made too much of a crescendo and almost dominated over the melody.

"Overdone, trombones! Player softer," Mr. Small commanded in his drill sergeant voice, which startled everyone. Then, his polite smile return as he used his calm voice to say, "Again."

Finally, the band members executed the phrase as Mr. Small wanted them, so he moved on to the next phrase, where the flutes and oboe joined in.

"Flutes, you're going to want to practice playiing the highest note in measure 12. I suggest that you all take your instruments home and play the note repeatedly until you can play comfortably. Play it now if you can, and leave it out if not, alright? Good. Now, let's play, everyone."

* * *

The second 8-measure phrase was played pretty well the first time since those that didn't play in the first phrase listened to Mr. Small when he was addressing the errors in that phrase.

"Flutes, on second thought, we'll practice that note here during rehearsals in addition to home practice," said Mr. Small. "Alright?"

The flute section nodded on agreement.

"Good."

Once he heard everyone in the section play the note, he announced, "We'll play pickup to measure nine once more, and then we'll be done for the day. [count-off]"

The second time around was just as good as the first, if not better. "Well done. Now, before you leave, take this into consideration when playing: if I start crying while you play, and if I haven't shown any sign of sadness immediately before, you're playing this piece excellently. Thank you, and I'll see you all tomorrow."

All of the students darted toward the instrument storage room and put away their instruments; then, they grabbed the school supplies that they were bringing home with them and headed toward the front door of the school. Gumball, Carrie, Darwin, and Mike walked out together, the former two holding hands.

"Celtic Ballad was beautiful, wasn't it?" asked Gumball.

"Yeah. I don't think that there was a dry eye anywhere, except for Mr. Small's," agreed Darwin.

"Mr. Kennedy sure knows how to write a good tear-jerker (**that's up to you readers to form an opinion about**)," added Mike.

"I know, right?" siad Gumball. "What did you think, Carrie?"

Gumball took a look at his girlfriend, and saw that she had tears in her eyes.

"Carrie, what's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I just can't stop thinking about the song. It's that good."

"My thoughts exactly," commented Mike.

Just then, Nicole drove up to the school to pick-up Gumball and Darwin, and Mike's mom came to get him. Darwin and Mike immedieately went to their respective mothers' cars while Gumball stayed behind to say goodbye to his girlfriend.

"Bye, Gumball," Carrie said as she pulled him into a kiss.

"Bye, Carrie," Gumball returned as he headed to his mom's car. Once he was out of sight, Carrie teleported to her home.

* * *

**Me: My second longest chapter. What did you think? Read and review. More pieces are coming up.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Me: We're getting a new piece for this chapter.**

**Mike: Since Marches (my username-nickname) told me, Gumball, and Darwin, I'll tell you all. The next piece is—**

**Me: [jump spinning inside crescent kicks Mike in the face] Not yet, stupid!**

**Mike: What the hell, man!? What the fuck is your damn problem?!**

**Me: Don't spoil it!**

**Mike: [rubbing his cheek] Okay! Damn! You didn't have to fucking kick me!**

**Me: I'll get you some ice. Anyway, there's a new count-off pattern that goes as follows: "1,…,2,…,1, 2." This is [DSM1 count-off]. Others that have been, and will be introduced, will appear starting next chapter in a count-off guide at the beginning of each chapter. Now, story time.**

* * *

Chapter 6

"Alright. I've selected the next piece; I'll pass out the parts after we complete the next section of Celtic Ballad," Mr. Small announced. "For now, let's put the first two phrases together." Raising his baton, he said, "Once you've played the second phrase, keep playing. Just watch me for the stopping point." [count-off]

The ensemble began playing, keeping in mind the technicalities about which Mr. Small had informed them. Sadly, once the new phrase began, everything fell apart. The trumpets missed their entrance, the dynamic marking (mp) in their haste to catch back up, and rushed their line (**odd that I'm coming down on my own instrument**). The clarinets also missed their dynamic; however, they played too softly, as opposed to the trumpets. Mr. Small cut band off to correct the said short comings.

"Trumpets, count, and you don't have the melody! Clarinets (not the melody), stop playing like wimps! Play louder!" instructed Mr. Small. Reverting back to his normal voice, "Again, at the top." [count-off]

The second time around, everything went smoothly, save for the crash cymbal player, Jamie, rushing at her entrance.

"As I said to the trumpets, Jamie," Mr. Small told her before taking his drill sergeant voice, "count the beat! Once again, at the top." [count-off]

After succeeding at the run-through of the three phrases (third time's the charm), the band played again to be sure that everyone had the phrases memorized.

"Okay, here's the next piece," Mr. Small announced, walking around the room, distributing the parts. "After you hear the recording, I want to discuss it with you all."

He started the CD player, and "Downing Street March," by Barry Kopetz, filled everyone's ears. When it was over, Mr. Small took a seat in the chair that he had in front of the podium and faced the class.

"What is the style of this piece? Be specific," he asked and directed, prompting everyone to raise his/her hand. Mr. Small pointed in the direction of the trombone section. "Yes?"

"A British-style march," Alex answered.

"Yes. Here are some differences between this kind of march and American-style marches. In this march, Mr. Kopetz intends for you to hold out most of the phrase endings instead of playing them short. Next, the trio, which is only played once here, is followed by another strain, which makes this a regimental, or review, march.

"Another thing, most marches begin in a major key and add a flat in the trio section; this one starts in a minor key and changes to its relative major, which is why Mr. Bruce Pearson, the person giving the overview on the recording, said that it is a study in relative major and minor keys.

"Now, let's play. Oh, and by the way, Downing Street March has some sixtheenth-note rhythms that we'll discuss at a later date. One more thing: I'm going to treat the first measure as a pickup measure even though it conforms to the time signature."

He lifted the baton, signaling the active instruments to assume playing position. [DSM1 count-off]

* * *

**Me: [hands Mike an ice pack] I'm sorry for kicking you in the face, Mike.**

**Mike: It's alright.**

**Me: How about I let you do the closer with Gumball and Darwin?**

**Mike: [face brightens] Sure.**

**Me: Get out here, guys! I want you to do the closer!**

**Gumball: Awesome!**

**Darwin: Sweet!**

**Me: [faces you] Alright, guys, another segment is finished. Tune in for the next chapter of… The Band. For now, remember to— [points at Gumball, Darwin, and Mike]**

**Gumball: Read.**

**Darwin: And.**

**Mike: Review!**

**Me: So long everyone! Robbie's (Gravity Falls) super tight jeans from "The Time Traveler's Pig" are so fucking overrated and may keep him from having kids later on!  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Me: Well, I lied last chapter. I said that I would have a guide of counts-off for this and subsequent chapters. Anyway, I'm shifting the focus of this story to what goes on outside the band room to the story's main characters; I, as well as other readers, have grown bored of the old one.**

**Mike: [snoring]**

**Gumball: [snoring]**

**Darwin: [snoring]**

**Me: Now, since the previous chapter ended in a cliffhanger, I'll very quickly summarize what happened next: the band completed the first section of the next piece. With this all said, let's continue the story (hopefully with a little more enthusiasm).**

* * *

Chapter 7

[time-skip to weekend]

Sunlight entered through the sliver of the window in Gumball's bedroom which the curtains did not cover. The light shined upon Gumball's eyelids, making him see shades of red through his closed eyes. Slightly glaring at the discomfort, Gumball, who was awake while bearing the guise of sleep, groaned and turned to his left side in his bed. Eventually, he drifted back to sleep. It felt like only five minutes to him, but half an hour had passed when Darwin, wielding a container of compressed air, interrupted his dormancy. The result was Gumball shrieking, going temporarily deaf, and slamming his cranium into the underside of the top bunk in his bed.

"Owww! Oww! Ow!" he cried out, gripping his head as he curled up into a ball. "Darwin! What the hell is wrong with you, dude?" he screamed at the fish, though he felt as if he was only whispering, on account of his deafness.

"Dude, it's 10:45! You've got to wake up, man!" Darwin yelled back.

"What? I can't hear you! You deafened me!" Gumball yelled again.

I said—oh. Never mind," Darwin started to scream, but then he realized, _Oh, yeah. Gumball's right. I_ did _do that. _As he walked out of the room, he smiled and said, Good morning, Gumball."

"What?" Gumball called as pain shot to his head. Tenderly rubbing it, he thought, _Great. Now, I can't hear crap, so I can't call Mom to get some ice for my head._ Sighing, Gumball removed the covers, got out of bed, grabbed a piece of paper, and after writing on it, he went downstairs to the kitchen to get the ice.

"Gumball, what are you doing with that ice pack?" Anais, who was reading, asked curiously. Only having seen her mouth move, Gumball showed her the sign that explained the predicament (**before coming downstairs, he had written on the piece of paper**), "I HAVE TEMPORARILY LOST MY HEARING BECAUSE DARWIN USED AN AIR HORN TO AWAKEN ME. WHEN HE USED IT, I BUMPED MY HEAD FROM RISING IN BED TOO QUICKLY IN REACTION."

"Oh," Anais responded. Just then, Darwin came into the kitchen with a sign that said, "SORRY FOR MAKING YOU DEAF AND GIVING YOU A HEADACHE, BUDDY. HUG?"

Nodding, Gumball walked up to his brother, and they embraced. After breaking apart, Gumball went to the cupboard to get a bowl of Daisy Flakes for himself.

* * *

At around noon, Mike came over to play Alligators on a Train: The Videogame (**came right out of my butt**). By this time, Gumball had regained most of his hearing, and his head was healing, but he still had an ice pack wrapped in a towel on his head.

Later, at 1:00, the doorbell rang. Gumball, who had now completely regained his hearing and no longer needed the ice pack (although his head slightly stung still), went to answer it, and once he opened the door, Carrie hugged him.

"Hey, Carrie," he greeted.

"Hi," she returned.

"Darwin, Mike, and I are about to play Dodge or Dare. Do you want to join?"

"Sure thing."

Grabbing her boyfriend's hand, Carrie followed the guys to the backyard, where the game was already set up.

"Alright, Carrie. The rules of Dodge or Dare are simple: you just roll the dice (**for this story, for each turn, each of the other players must select a number or numbers between 1 and 12, representing the possible number tht one can roll. Whatever number in which the dice roll results, the player that has selected the number gives the potential dare**), pick a card, and do the task that it says. If you choose not to, you ask for a dare from another player. You lose a turn if your attempt at the card's task ends in failure," Gumball explained. "Got that?" he asked.

"Yep. So, who's first?" asked Carrie.

"NOT IT!" Darwin shouted. The others followed suit, with Mike saying it last. "Crap!" he muttered.

"Here you go," said Gumball, handing him the dice.

"Alright. What are your numbers?" Mike asked.

"3, 4, 8, 10," said Gumball.

"1, 5, 7, 12," said Darwin.

"2, 6, 9, 11," said Carrie.

"Okay," said Mike as he rolled the dice and landed on a 7.

Mike's card read, "Walk to and from the school in nothing but your underwear, and make lots of noise while doing so."

"So, who has a dare for me?" Mike asked.

"That would be I: my dare is for you to build a wall using items from the garbage can. Once you're done, you've got to defend it from us as we try to tear it down," said Darwin.

"Hmm. Do I nearly streak, or build a wall? Streak, wall? Hmm. I'll go with the wall," declared Mike.

"Okay. Here's the garbage," said Gumball while bringing the trash can to him.

"Well, here goes nothing," Mike said.

Scrambling, he picked out the building material and raced to construct his wall so as to complete his turn sooner. As soon as he was done, Gumball, Carrie, and Darwin went on the offensive, ripping the components out or swiping at them if Mike stood in the way. Suddenly, the attackers retreated, giving Mike time to make repairs.

Just as he was reinserting the final piece of trash, the others charged at him, knocking everyone through the barrier and onto the ground. When everyone was standing back up, they all took a look at one another and started laughing. They had all gotten stained from the garbage in the charge. Their merriment, however, was cut short by the Wattersons' neighbors, the Robinsons.

"Can you kids keep it do—" Mr. Robinson commanded from his side of the fence that divided the yards. He started to snicker when he saw the kids' appearance.

"Hey, Margaret! Get a load of these guys! Ahahaha!" he laughed. Responding, Mrs. Robinson look over the fence and almost passed out from laughing so hard.

"You kids look ridiculous!" Mr. Robinson hollered, not realizing that Mike had grabbed a piece of trash from the wall. Mr. Robinson was still laughing when a projectile hit him in his shirt. Looking down, his smile turned into an angry frown.

"Grrr! When I get my hands on you ki—," he said before the children hurled more projectile garbage in his and Margaret's direction. Desperate to flee, they ran inside, where Margaret grumbled at her husband, and he retaliated back at her, starting another of their many arguments.

Meanwhile, Gumball, Carrie, Darwin, and Mike were on the ground, pounding their fists.

"Man, those two are bitches!" Mike managed to say between hoots and howls.

"Haha, yeah! It looks like the trash took _them_ out!" declared Gumball, sparking more laughter from everyone. It got quiet after about 30 seconds, at which point Darwin pointed out, "Uh, Gumball? _We're_ covered in trash, too."

"Oh, yeah, right. Well, it's nothing a shower can't fix," Gumball replied, getting back up. "So, how was the game, Carrie? Did you like it?"

"Hell, yeah! That shit is badass!" she answered excitedly.

"I know, right? So, do you wanna play sometime later?"

"That depends on what we're playing," she said, eyeing him deviously.

"Oooh!" Mike said, clearly amused.

"I don't get it," said Darwin confusedly.

"You'll know soon enough," Mike told him, patting his head.

"Alright guys, we should hit the showers!" said Gumball as he made his way through the back door towards the bathroom.

"Okay, I guess I'll see you guys later," Mike said, waving goodbye as he went around to the front of the house to start his walk home, which only lasted a few minutes.

"Darwin."

"Yes, Carrie?"

Tell Gumball I said bye, and that I'll be back later."

"Sure thing."

With that, Carrie teleported away from the Watterson house, leaving Darwin as the last person to go inside and follow Gumball's example.

* * *

**Me: This…took…fucking…forever to write! At least it serves as an accomplishment after having completed this school year (my summer vacation lasts from 5/24/2013 to 7/14/2013 because i have to go to band camp the next day.**

**The reasons that I wrote only one turn for Dodge or Dare are: a) that always happens in the show; and b) trying to write this while tired and a little lazy.**

**I know: Gumball's headache and deafness have nothing to do with ehat goes on later in the chapter.**

**I have bad tidings: I have to bid farewell. The reasons are: lack of demand, infrequent use, and loss of interest. So, it is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye…**


End file.
